Highly commended - Junior section
Clarence High School
2020. Cars, buses, trucks everywhere. Trees cut down to build houses, craft boats and make paper. Land is raped to grow food for millions. Temperatures rise, icebergs melt and animals choke on plastic. Will humans ever learn?
I was alone on my island for millions of years. It was just me, the pounding waves, the birds, and an occasional volcanic eruption. The island was only for the toughest creatures because the steep, jagged cliffs were unscalable. Even so, it was beautiful, filled with thriving palm trees and stunning views.
This was until the humans arrived. At first, I was curious. They came from the horizon in large wooden boats, struggling to stay afloat while surrounded by the treacherous ocean. The waves slammed into the towering cliffs, and the humans desperately tried to dock safely. One boat was swept away under the water, frantic screams and cries for help swallowed by darkness. Five other boats made it safely to the shore, and although the relief of the survivors hung in the air for days, grief for the lost stayed present.
It took a few days before the bewildered humans accepted their situation. They built shelters out of rocks and started putting plants in the ground, which grew slowly over many weeks. Each day, a group of the strongest humans was sent out to walk around the island, observing the land and animal inhabitants.
Bit by bit, the resourceful humans were shaping the island to become their home. They made tools out of rocks and wood from the towering palm trees. Using these, the humans chipped away at the majestic cliffs, creating strange shapes that resembled their faces. When it was completed, about seventy humans used tree trunks to roll their creation up the hill. Five days were spent constantly rolling the rock forward, until they reached their chosen location. As they added the finishing touches, I admired what the humans had done. The statue was a beautiful replica of their faces, and it sat gazing at the sea, proudly claiming the island as its own.
Eventually, I grew accustomed to the humans living on my island. They made numerous more copies of the statue, although several attempts resulted in failure. Many times, the rock shattered, or the carving was abandoned for no apparent reason.
As the years wore on, the humans built more of these statues, some so enormous that even after completion, moving them was too difficult. This ambition for bigger and better things triggered the spiralling downfall of the human’s society into utter chaos.
My initial curiosity soured, transforming into terror. The island was no longer as healthy as it once was. At the beginning, I barely noticed due to the novelty of having something new to observe, but as the years wore on, it became more apparent. In their quest to make these magnificent carvings, the humans felled tree after tree, with no regard for conservation. On their arrival, the island was thriving with towering palm trees and the supply seemed inexhaustible. Sadly, this was not the case, and resulted in the island’s balance being disrupted. Without the tree cover, the island was vulnerable to erosion, and as the topsoil washed into the sea, exposing a raw blister on the once pristine beauty of the island. As growing plants became impossible, tensions continued to rise.
Despite all the humans being the cause of this destruction, their community fractured; the groups started getting angry and blaming each other. Suddenly, the spark of fury launched into an inferno of hatred.
The slaved-over stunning statues were smashed and decapitated; habitats burnt, and humans slaughtered every day. No one was spared in the horrific battle and if someone was killed, their body was eaten victoriously. Although it was partly to show superiority, they also ate the bodies because without the nourishing plants and wooden hunting tools, food was scarce.
The horror was almost as distressing as when the volcanos were erupting many years ago. The fury possessed by each human was frightening and very different from the docile birds I was accustomed to. The humans had corrupted the island, ruining its peace with their rage. The fighting, screaming, flames and weapons were terrifying; no mercy was shown.
When the fighting eventually ended, there was almost no one left on the island. The haven that it had once been was now rotted and destroyed by anger. The once towering, lush palm trees were gone, blood covered the rocks and even the magnificent statues, crafted for hours by the humans, now lay in shattered pieces. Little was left of the carnage and the survivors had no healthy soil to grow crops, no prey to catch and no wood left for fires. The humans had destroyed their own futures by the desperate need for more.
2020. Cars, buses, trucks everywhere. Trees cut down to build houses, craft boats and make paper. Land is raped to grow food for millions. Temperatures rise, icebergs melt and animals choke on plastic. Will humans ever learn?
Forty South Publishing and the Tasmanian Association for the Teaching of English (TATE) congratulate everyone who entered our short story competition in this challenging coronavirus-affected year. We would also like to recognise the extra work put in by teachers and parents to support these young writers and to maintain the general education of young Tasmanian school students.
The themes this year echoed the world-wide pandemic. For the Juniors (Years 7-9) the themes were ‘Connection’ or ‘Community’ and for the Seniors (Years 10-12) they were ‘Isolation’ or ‘Island’. Students were free to interpret their chosen theme in any way they wanted.
Chris Gallagher judged both sections and was impressed with the overall standard of entries. She could not split her two top stories in the Senior Section and so the senior prize has been shared by Tabitha Glanville (Scotch Oakburn College) and Tara Sharman (Hobart College). In a first for Clarence High School, Oenone Schofield took out the Junior Section with her story, ‘Home’.
